


Feverish

by sainnis



Series: Medschool Boys [5]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-26
Updated: 2011-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uryuu gets a spectacular cold, and Ichigo is distracted and worried.  Cue some hurt for both of them, but comfort as well.  </p><p>This is the fifth story in the Medschool Boys series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feverish

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic was written for [](http://pony-rocks.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://pony-rocks.livejournal.com/)**pony_rocks** , because she's had a crazy new year.

Ichigo landed unsteadily on the balcony, holding onto the railing for a moment as he caught his breath. He reached up with his free hand, pressing his palm against his neck to stem the flow of blood. The wound burned like hell.

It was carelessness, pure and simple. There was no other explanation for the fact an ordinary Hollow of meager power and less intelligence had come quite close to doing Ichigo some serious damage. Ichigo exhaled, staring down at the quiet street below. This was his third night in a row on patrol, and after classes and anatomy labs all day, the lack of sleep was beginning to wear him down.

He stepped silently into the flat, careful not to get blood on the carpet; Uryuu _hated_ that. Stopping to grab a towel from the bath—always black towels for him—he pushed open the door to the bedroom to find Uryuu curled up beside Ichigo’s body.

Ichigo almost turned and left, thinking that perhaps Uryuu was finally sleeping, but he heard Uryuu weakly murmur his name.

“I hoped you’d be asleep,” Ichigo said softly, coming closer to Uryuu’s side of the bed. With his left hand, he kept the towel pressed against his wound, and with the other, he touched Uryuu’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death.” Uryuu coughed violently, his breathing harsh.

Ichigo picked up the glass of water beside the bed, sighing. “You didn’t drink anything.”

“I did.” Uryuu coughed again miserably. “Threw it up.”

“You have to keep trying.”

Uryuu peered up at him, squinting, and then struggled to pull one pale arm from underneath the sheets, scrabbling to pick up his glasses from the nightstand. After putting them on, he looked up at Ichigo, frowning. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing. A scratch.”

“Let me see it.”

“No.” Ichigo touched Uryuu’s forehead again. “Your fever still didn’t break.”

“I know.” Uryuu shuddered, his body wracked with chills. The fever had been going on for three days straight, and he was barely able to keep ice chips down.

“I think we should call your father.”

“No fucking way.”

“How about mine?”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine tomorrow.” Uryuu’s cough returned with a vengeance, and then a ghastly expression came over his face as he gestured towards the bucket nearby. Ichigo barely got it in front of Uryuu in time.

When Uryuu finally finished, Ichigo took the bucket away, and then wiped Uryuu’s mouth with a damp cloth. “I’m really worried about you.”

“I’m not the one bleeding.”

“No, you’re the one who’s dehydrated and can’t stand up.” Ichigo sighed, letting his free hand rest lightly on Uryuu’s thin chest, feeling it rise and fall with his rough breathing. Uryuu’s nightshirt was damp with sweat, clinging to his ribs.

“I don’t like the look of you.” Ichigo rose to his feet, one hand still pressed against his wound. “I’m getting you some medicine. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“The drugstore is closed, and there’s nothing at the mini-mart that’ll help.” Uryuu waved a hand at him weakly. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you.” Ichigo crossed to the bathroom, haphazardly taping gauze over his neck. It was an ugly dressing, but at least it would stem the blood. Returning to Uryuu’s side, he kissed his fevered temple. “Be right back.”

“Don’t you want your body?” Uryuu looked up, his head resting on Ichigo’s chest.

Ichigo grinned, taking off Uryuu’s glasses and setting them safely on the bedside table. “I’m faster in this one. Besides, you look comfortable. Try to drink something while I’m gone.”

Stepping out onto the balcony, Ichigo jumped into the night sky, flash stepping his way across Karakura Town. If Uryuu hadn’t been so sick, and Ichigo wasn’t feeling dead on his feet already, he might have been able to enjoy the sensation of the wind blasting by him, the roar in his ears. Instead he focused on getting across town as quickly as possible, and with his destination in sight, he put on a final burst of speed.

There was a rooftop on the third floor of the hospital where some of the residents liked to smoke, and there was almost always a bit of wood jammed between the door and the frame to keep it open. Ichigo landed hard on the roof, and then smiled as he tested the door. He slipped inside quietly, and then laughed at himself. _No one can see you._

Making his way through the halls of patient rooms, he stayed out of the way of the bleary-eyed nurses and overtired interns. He waited a few minutes until he heard someone mutter about going into the supply room, and he smiled. Without his ID card, he’d have to break in to one of the secure rooms where the more powerful drugs were kept, and he didn’t want to draw any attention than necessary. Following behind a third-year, he slipped behind her into the room, waiting until she retrieved the dosage she needed and then left.

Ichigo blinked in the fluorescent lights, looking through the shelves. Some of the names of the medications were unfamiliar to him; his father didn’t have access to most of these, and he hadn’t taken Pharmacology yet. He reached for his phone, and then realized he was in the wrong body. “Fuck.”

He heard the ID swiper outside the door beep twice, and Ichigo turned around to see someone coming into the room. _You’re so fucking jumpy. No one can see you in here!_ Ichigo went back to searching the shelves, hoping something would look familiar.

A cold voice spoke behind him. “Kurosaki. Imagine finding you in here.”

Ichigo hissed through his teeth. “Shit. I mean, good evening, sir.” Ichigo turned, bobbing his head at Uryuu’s father.

Ryuuken’s head tilted slightly, staring at Ichigo’s neck. “Did you bandage that yourself?”

“I was in a hurry. Sir.”

“That’s a relief. I was concerned my son had performed such shoddy work.” Ryuuken took a step towards him. “Are you dealing with the effects of blood loss from your injury, or is your reiatsu awareness really so weak?”

“Can we just chalk it up to a combination of both?” Ichigo sighed, reaching up to touch the gauze over his neck. It was soaked through. _Fuck._ “I’m actually not here on my own account, sir. Uryuu’s been sick, and I’m concerned about him.”

“You believe you are qualified to treat him?”

“I believe he’s too proud to come to you.”

Ryuuken’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “What are his symptoms?”

Ichigo explained Uryuu’s condition, answering Ryuuken’s questions as best he could. Ryuuken listened, his face impassive, and then crossed the room to retrieve some medication.

“I’m giving you several doses, but one will likely be enough. This will stop the nausea.” He held out some small glass vials and syringes wrapped in plastic. “These should be given in the dorsogluteal muscle. I am sure you are well acquainted with that.”

Ichigo took the medicine, biting his lip to keep from saying something he’d regret later. He finally managed a quick thanks before turning to leave.

“I’m not finished. Once you administer the injection, he needs aspirin to control the fever. If it goes more than five degrees above normal, or the nausea doesn’t stop, then you must call me immediately.” Ryuuken flicked out a business card, handing it to Ichigo. “This has my personal cell. He probably doesn’t have the number in his phone.”

“Thank you, sir. I promise I will call if that happens.” He nodded, and then took a step towards the door.

“Kurosaki, stop inching towards the exit. Your wound needs treatment.”

Ichigo felt his stomach clench. “It’s going to be fine. Just needs a new bandage.”

“If your diagnosing skills are so poor, then perhaps we need to re-evaluate your place in the Karakura program.” Ryukken pulled a chair out from along the wall and pointed at it. “Sit. I don’t have long, and if you keep me waiting any further, I won’t use an anesthetic.”

Ichigo sighed. He’d learned long ago that he couldn’t easily rebuff an Ishida.

***

Ichigo landed on the balcony once more, his breath coming fast from the exertion of flash-stepping. He could still feel a dull throb from his wound, but Ryuuken had done an expert job stitching it up. He opened the door, and then hurried to the bedroom, finding Uryuu still curled up with Ichigo’s body.

“Uryuu. Hey. It’s me.”

Uryuu flinched in his sleep, and then turned toward Ichigo, blinking his eyes. “You smell like the hospital.”

“Sorry. I brought you some medicine.”

Fumbling for his glasses, Uryuu put them on and looked carefully at Ichigo. “You stole from my dad?”

Ichigo shrugged. “Not exactly.”

“That’s a new bandage on your neck.”

“I, um, had a little help.”

Uryuu groaned. “You saw my father.”

“He found me. I swear that man does not sleep. He stitched me up, though, and he gave me medicine to help you.” Ichigo held up one of the vials. “See?”

“That doesn’t look like pills.”

“It’s not. Just a quick shot.”

Uryuu glared at him. “In the ass, no doubt.”

“It’ll be really quick, and then you’ll feel much better. I promise.” Ichigo prepared the injection, and then patted Uryuu’s shoulder. “Come on. Turn over.”

“You are enjoying this entirely too much.”

“I am not. You should be grateful it’s me here and not your father.”

“Fine.” Uryuu did as asked, and Ichigo pulled down the waistband of Uryuu’s pajama pants, wiping his skin with an alcohol swab. “You want me to warn you or something? Like a one, two, three?”

“I’ve had my fucking arm cut off before, Ichigo. Just do it!”

“I was just trying to be nice.” Ichigo gave him the shot, and then helped Uryuu back under the covers. “He said it might make you kind of sleepy.”

“I can’t believe you consorted with the enemy.” Uryuu coughed violently, trying to catch his breath.

“At least the enemy didn’t stitch you up and quiz you the entire time. It’s not easy to concentrate when your boyfriend’s dad is sticking a needle in your neck.”

Uryuu looked puzzled. “Didn’t your father quiz you whenever he performed any sort of medical procedure on you?”

Not for the first time, Ichigo mentally thanked whatever gods were responsible for allowing him to be Shinigami and not Quincy. Also for not having Ryuuken as a father. “Not really.”

Uryuu curled up against Ichigo’s body. “It’s weird to lay here on top of you and yet be able to see you sitting on the bed next to me.”

“It’s weird for me too. Like I feel like I should be able to feel you touching me, but I can’t.” Ichigo climbed next to his body, and then slipped back inside, feeling the strange push/pull as his soul slid back into place.

“That’s so much better.” Uryuu exhaled, his arm tightening around Ichigo’s ribs. He settled his head more comfortably on Ichigo’s chest. “I missed your heartbeat. When your soul is gone, I can’t hear it.”

Ichigo kissed the top of Uryuu’s head. “Just get better, okay?”

Uryuu yawned, closing his eyes. “Okay.”


End file.
